


We’ll Always Go Back To That Church

by lyryk (s_k)



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Talented Mr Ripley (1999)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-17
Updated: 2009-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover of sorts between <i>Pirates of the Caribbean</i> and <i>The Talented Mr Ripley</i>.<br/>Much love to <span></span><a href="http://wicked-jade.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://wicked-jade.livejournal.com/"></a><b>wicked_jade</b> and Porridgebird for the beta.<br/>The title is adapted from the name of a track composed by Gabriel Yared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We’ll Always Go Back To That Church

  
They are not believers, but Tom loves the tranquillity of the cathedral after Peter has finished rehearsals and only the two of them are left in the Pieta, Peter's music still echoing in Tom's mind.

‘Vivaldi’s own church.’ Peter smiles at Tom’s wonderment as he gently closes the lid over the organ. Tom turns to gaze at him, his fingertips tracing the tiny, ornate letters carved into the wooden window-frame.

Peter puts away his sheets of music, looking up for a moment to smile swiftly at him, and Tom’s heart, accustomed to betrayal, unused to belief, awakens to faith again.

\--

  
They are not believers, but Jack loves how the serenity of cathedrals seems to enhance James’s quiescence. He waves from the organ loft and James follows him up, half-exasperated, half-amused.

‘Vivaldi’s own church.’ James’s fingertips gently caress the keys of the organ. Jack grins from the shadows under the stained-glass window as he carves their initials into the wood framing the glass.

James wonders if they have both found something to believe in. Jack feels his gaze and half-turns his head to smile at him, answering his unspoken query, iridescent beams of sunlight venerating the charms in his dark hair.


End file.
